Cat Crimes: 4 Reasons Why People And Cats Kill
by JenniferR.Song
Summary: The four big motivations: “Drugs, sex, money, love.” – Catherine Willows, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, novel “Killing Game,” pg. 139 In each story, the cat is either the protector, or the killer. Explore the reasons behind each of them. All 4 done.
1. Prologue Chapter

Hi! I'm finally publishing this story. This is my second multi-chapter fic. However, no one has reviewed _Prongs Rides Again_. It's kinda depressing. Will someone please review that story? I welcome reviews for this story too. I love reviews, lots and lots of reviews.

This story is somewhat based on the _Cat Crimes_ books by Martin H. Greenberg & Ed Gorman. Each chapter will be a one-shot based on the following quote:

"People kill for four reasons: love, sex, money, and drugs." – Gil Grissom, _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation_

However, I do not know what episode that is from. Please help me out here. Sheesh.

Index:

Story #1: _A Crime of Drugs_

Story #2: _A Crime of Love_

Story #3: _A Crime of Money_

Story #4: _A Crime of Sex_

Summery: In each story, the cat is either the protector, or the killer. Explore the reasons behind each of them.

Disclaimer: Any names, similar circumstances, or similar stories are purely coincidental. All stories and their characters belong to me.

Now, onto the first one-shot, _A Crime of Drugs_.


	2. A Crime of Drugs

Oh, boy. (rubs hands) Here we go. I hope y'all as much fun reading this as I did writing it. Just to warn you, there may be no cussing in my stories, but there will be a few disturbing parts in here. Nothing extreme, but they are necessary to the flow of the story.

Oh, forgot to mention this in the intro. I do not own the _Cat Crimes_ books. They are the property of Martin H. Greenberg and Ed Gorman.

Now, onward!

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**Story #1: A Crime of Drugs**

Harold Isakson, of Maspeth, New York, was only one of about 12 LSD dealers in the state, but he still ran a profitable business. He kept his nose out of the other dealers' areas and in turn, they didn't mess with his precious few customers.

One Monday evening, a young woman came to his place. She was thin, with straight blond hair and dulled blue eyes. She was dressed in clothes that had seen better days. The shirt and pants both had holes in them and the shoes looked completely worn out. She did bring a cat with her, as equally thin. His fur was a dull, smoky grey, and he had yellow eyes.

"His name's Chester," she said.

"And what's your name?" he asked politely.

"Daisy," she said. He sold her 15 grams of the drug and she went on her way.

_She's quite lovely_, he thought, watching her retreating back. Still, he could not repress a shudder. That cat had been staring at him the entire time, almost as if he were reading his mind.

She was back the next day, to Harold's excitement. That excitement dulled down when he saw she had brought the cat with her.

"You know," he said, selling her another 15-gram package, "a pretty girl like yourself really shouldn't do this so often."

"I know," she said. "But Chester hid my other pack."

"Oh, I see," he said. He was starting to like Daisy's visits. She visited every Monday, every week, for two months. But close to the end of the second month, Harold overheard a few men at his favorite bar.

"We need to keep our noses clean," one of them whispered.

"Yeah, the cops are resorting to drastic measures," said another.

"They've got themselves an undercover agent now," a third muttered. "She buys the goods once a week for a couple of months, and then one day, bam." Harold heard the sound of a fist hitting the table. "She brings the Feds with her."

Harold's hand shook and he almost dropped the glass of whiskey he was holding. He walked over to the men, one of whom he recognized as a fellow dealer.

"Excuse me," he said. "I couldn't help myself from overhearing your conversation. What does this woman look like?"

The man in the middle spoke up. "She has straight blond hair, and blue eyes. Usually, she carries a gray cat with her."

Harold turned white. This man had just described Daisy perfectly.

"Thanks," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I'll keep an eye out for her." He left before the men could say anything else.

That night, he lay in bed thinking, _I need to follow her to wherever she's staying. She's probably at a hotel_. He rolled over in his bed, his brain active with ideas.

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The next time Daisy came for her packet, he silently followed her. She checked in at the local Motel 6. He determined to take care of her that very night.

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He prepared a knife to cut her throat with. It was a common knife and if he left it at the crime scene with the fingerprints wiped from it, it would not come back to him.

He set out a few hours later, dressed in black, and the knife safely tucked away in his jacket. When Daisy turned off the light in her hotel room, he made his move. Creeping stealthily to the door, he jimmied it open quietly. She was not in her bed. Harold had only enough time to register how particular that was when something large and hissing attacked his face.

Chester scratched his face with razor-sharp claws, determined to cause as much harm as possible to the intruder. Harold slashed his knife wildly, trying to stab the cat.

Daisy came into the room in a tan suit, now looking the part of a governmental agent. She pointed her handgun at him.

"Freeze, Isakson!" she shouted. Chester jumped off him, still spitting and hissing at him.

"Agent Jameson, the suspect is present and secured. Send in the police," she said to her radio.

"_Copy that, Agent Wallis,_" said the voice on the other end.

The last thing Harold saw before being stuffed into the police cruiser was the man who had given him Daisy's profile come up beside her and put his hand on her shoulder.

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Harold Isakson was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for possession of LSD, with intent to distribute. Agent Wallis testified at the trial, and Chester, a professional police cat, received a small medal, and went home with her, seeing as he had become so attached to her during the drug bust.

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Well, that was story number 1. Please R&R. Story number 2 will be up shortly. It is _A Crime of Love_. See you around!


	3. A Crime of Love

I'm BA-ACK! Sorry it took so long to update. I've been going crazy, and so have my muses. Thank God it's a three-day weekend. Happy (early) Labor Day, everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Cat Crimes_ Novels. They are the property of Martin H. Greenberg and Ed Gorman.

Warning: This chapter does have a few disturbing scenes in it. Violent ones only, but still a little disturbing nonetheless.

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**Story #2: A Crime of Love**

Penelope Eddingfield, of Bismark, North Dakota, had only one love in her love – her five-year old orange tom appropriately named Blazer.

She had rescued him when he was only a few days old. Someone had thrown him in a water-filled ditch with five other kittens. The others had died, but Blazer had miraculously survived until Penny found him.

She had spent weeks nursing him back to health. In return, he loved her unconditionally and chased other tom cats that had strayed into the yard away. When asked if she was going to have him neutered, she replied, "Whatever for?"

The lady who had asked the question had shaken her head. "Mark my words, you'll regret that decision someday."

Penny had shrugged it off. What kind of damage could an unfixed cat be anyway?

Today was a normal day for her. She got up in the morning, fed Blazer, and headed to her job as usual. She worked as a cashier at the local pharmacy.

"Next!" she called.

A handsome man stepped up. "Hello, my name is Jordan Baker. I need to pick up a prescription for Martha Baker."

Penny was struck dumb for a few seconds, but she quickly got over it. _Come on, Penny,_ she thought to herself as she retrieved the prescription. _Get a grip. It's probably his wife's medications he's picking up. That means he's unavailable._

She rung up the prescription and handed it to Jordan. He sighed in relief. "I'm glad these are ready," he said. "Last time Mother called her prescriptions in, she put in the wrong code, and had to wait another week."

Penny's heart did a double flip. _His mother's, _she thought.

Seeing that Ashley had the only other customer attended to at her register, she bent towards Jordan.

"I get off at six," she whispered. Jordan's eyes widened, then twinkled, as he understood what she was saying.

"I'll see you at, say, the Olive Garden at eight o'clock?" he asked quietly.

Penny nodded her head and when Jordan left, she could not repress a squeal of joy. Ashley only rolled her eyes and took care of the next customer while Penny calmed down.

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At six, Penny couldn't leave the pharmacy fast enough. She sped home to get ready. When she entered her house, Blazer looked at her with angry eyes. _He must smell Jordan on me,_ she thought. She looked through the dresses in her closet, and found a sparkly red one that accentuated her blonde hair, and brought out her baby blue eyes.

She applied the last of her makeup and said goodbye to Blazer, who refused to acknowledge her leaving.

She met Jordan at the Olive Garden at eight o'clock sharp. He presented her with a yellow rose.

"For friendship," he explained. They had a wonderful time, and before Penny knew it, she was driving home in her little blue Honda Civic. When she finally walked in the door, she immediately went to bed, not bothering to feed Blazer or even get undressed. She fell asleep immediately. She woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and happy.

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After three weeks of dating, she invited Jordan over to her house. He accepted. When he walked in the door, Blazer hissed angrily at him, and hid under the sofa.

"Don't mind him, he's just jealous," she said as she went to the kitchen to get some Pepsis. When she came back, Blazer was sniffing at Jordan's socks.

"Go to the bedroom, Blazer. Shoo!" It was the first time she had ever run Blazer out of a room. Maybe that's why she thought she saw a look of anger mingled in with the disbelief in his eyes.

"I don't understand," he said, accepting the drink. "I love animals; why doesn't Blazer like me?"

"I don't know," said Penny. "I've never seen him act like this before."

They talked for several hours. When the clock on top of the bookcase chimed midnight, Jordan looked up and said, "I've got to go; I've got work to do in the morning, but since tomorrow's Saturday, I'll see you tomorrow at noon, say, at the fountain in the park?"

"I don't have work tomorrow, so I'd love to, and I'll be there," she promised. He left and Penny went to bed, both exhilarated and exhausted.

"Just think," she said to Blazer, who had jumped onto his place on the bed. "Maybe after a little more dating, he'll ask me to marry him. Then we'll be a family of three. Won't that be nice?"

Blazer's only answer was a deep rumble in his belly.

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The next day, she dressed in casual clothes, and went to the park to meet Jordan. He did not show, to her surprise. She waited until three and then trudged her way back home. On the doorstop was the day's paper. She picked it up and took it inside. For some odd reason, Blazer was purring contentedly in his chair.

She settled in her chair opposite him, and opened the paper. Nothing interesting caught her eye until she read a small article on the third page. She gasped.

It was an obituary. It read:

_Jordan Baker, 32, of Bismark, North Dakota, died last night of injuries sustained in a car accident. Eyewitnesses claim they saw a bright orange cat run across the road just seconds before the accident._

_Baker, being an animal lover, swerved to avoid the cat, and crashed into an old oak tree. Paramedics pronounced him dead at the scene. He is survived by his mother, Martha Baker, a brother, James Baker, and a sister, Jessica Manning. _

Penny's face drained of all color and she looked at Blazer, who now seemed to have a contented smile on his face.

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On Monday, Penny took Blazer to the vet, and had him neutered. Two years later, she met another man, Tim Weston. She and Tim were married another year later.

Blazer never complained of the arrangement, but he did go missing at nine years of age. Tim worked for a company that had him making regular deliveries between Bismark, and Dickinson, North Dakota. He didn't even know Blazer was missing until he got home, and Penny greeted him with a worried look on her face. They looked underneath the truck, and there, practically sandwiched between the two drive-shafts, was the dead body of Blazer.

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Yay, number two is done. I had to check with my dad to make sure of that little fact. A standard tractor trailer has two drive-shafts. How about that? To answer "Why on earth did that happen?", Blazer had been biding his time to get rid of Tim. Just because he was fixed didn't mean that he accepted Tim into the family. He tried the same thing to get rid of Tim that worked on Jordan. He lost.

I do know an Ashley who worked at an Eckerd's for a while, so that name wasn't made up.

Anyway, number three will be _A Crime of Money_. I don't know when I'll be updating again. College is starting to get a little harder now, and I have two tests next week, thankfully on two different days. See y'all around!


	4. A Crime of Money

Hello! Sorry it took so long to update this one. I was busy with _Prongs Rides Again_. (sigh) I wish this story would have a single review. I guess y'all are waiting till the final chapter to review. Oh, well. I'm gonna finish this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Cat Crimes_ books. They are the property of Martin H. Greenberg and Ed Gorman.

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**Story #3: A Crime of Money**

Richard Yates, of Norfolk, Virginia, lived a comfortable life. He wasn't married or even divorced, so he had no kids to worry about. He was about 5'6", had brown eyes and hair, and was in extremely good shape for a man nearing his fiftieth birthday. His only living relative was his mother, who had had her eightieth birthday a few months back. Her only companions were her two cats, both females, one a calico, the other a midnight black.

Richard didn't care too much for his mother. Whenever he visited, she was always talking about her cats. "Today, Ginger did this," or "Sooty did that." Since Richard had a dog, he was often given looks by his mother, and she even went as far as to ask him why he still had "that mangy, useless mutt."

Richard had retorted that Louie had been his best fiend for three years now and was certainly smarter than her cats. Richard often thought the old witch had a fortune stashed away, for she always fed her cats the best cat food on the market. Her house, too, was no small cottage, and Richard fancied living in it when his mother finally passed on.

Therefore, it was to his great shock that, on his next visit, he was told the house would be turned into a shelter for cats. Richard sputtered and objected, but his mother remained firm in her decision.

"Just think of it, Ricky," she said. Richard winced. He hated that nickname. It made him feel like a child again. "This place will be a safe haven for all the kitties in Norfolk."

"Why, Mother?" he asked.

"Because. That's my final decision, and as soon as I can get a lawyer up here, I'll be changing my will."

Richard left, furious. _How dare she do something like this to me?_ he thought, stomping out to his car. The cats hissed at him as he went out the door, and he tried kicking one, only to miss. _I'm her only child and she's going to leave everything to her cats?_

He drove home with a boiling temper and when he finally reached his home, Louie had ducked out of sight, evidently knowing how his master felt.

Richard rattled around in his fridge and found an old six-pack of beer. He settled into his easy char, and automatically turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels and drank his beer. He was just lifting the third bottle to his lips when a brilliant idea crossed his foggy brain.

Simply kill her before she gets her will changed. He had watched enough _CSI_ to cover his tracks well. He glanced at the clock. One in the morning. _Good_, he thought. _She usually goes to bed about ten. I can use my key and sneak in. Her house is surrounded by trees, and my green Chevy would blend right in_.

He stumbled to the door, picking up his car keys, and staggering down the stairs to his car. He slid in and started the engine, backing out carefully. After all, he didn't want to be in an accident in his drunken state.

He drove to her house, and parked the car far enough away so she couldn't hear him coming. He walked up to the front door and saw two pairs of yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight. The cats were staring at him, almost as if they knew what he was about to do.

Richard unlocked the door, slipped in, and proceeded to the kitchen. He found a carbon-steel knife, about a foot long, perfect for slitting a throat. Knife in hand, he started walking up the stairs to the second landing where he knew his mother slept.

He had gotten no farther than the middle of the stairs when a sudden motion at his feet almost made him stumble back down the stairs. Biting back a curse, he looked up, and saw the black cat sitting at the top of the stairs, her tail flicking back and forth.

Richard narrowed his eyes and raised his foot to take the next step. The black cat chose that moment to zoom down between his legs. Unable to keep his balance, Richard fell down the stairs.

When he hit the bottom, the knife he had been holding stabbed him in the chest. Richard knew his mother would not hear him if he screamed; she took her hearing aids out at night, trusting in the burglar alarm, and the police to keep her safe.

Richard slowly bled to death on the hardwood floor, his last thought being, _I guess it really is bad luck for a black cat to cross your path._

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The next morning, Agatha Yates woke to find her son in a pool of blood at the foot of her stairs. She called the police and when they came, they were unable to ascertain why Richard would want to kill his mother. All the money she had ever owned had been spent on her two cats and the house. They were the only things of value she had.

Ginger and Sooty stayed on the couch the entire time the police were there. They licked imaginary blood splatter on each other's fur, looking as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Louie was taken in by Richard's neighbor, and Richard's house stayed on the market for years. Who wanted the house of a dead, possibly murderous, man? Eventually, an old couple bought it, thinking it was the home of their dreams. No bad luck came to them, surprisingly.

Richard's death was labeled an accident, and a small memorial service held. Nobody came though, except his mother, of course. She died at age ninety-two and, as per her revised will, the house was turned into a shelter for cats. When Ginger and Sooty joined their mistress, they were twenty years old.

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Point three is done! The next and final chapter will be _Story #4: A Crime of Sex_. Maybe then, I'll have a review. See you around.


	5. A Crime of Sex

Well, the last chapter. Here we go. I'm fine, just a little depressed no one reviewed. That's why this one is so small.

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**Story #4: A Crime of Sex**

Jessica Parkman was drowning her sorrows at a bar in downtown Savannah, Georgia. Only an hour ago, her boyfriend of three years had called her every name in the book and even given her a slap to mull over. Her cat, a beautiful Persian aptly named Georgia, had thankfully stayed out of the way of her rampaging boyfriend.

_Ex-boyfriend,_ she firmly, though drunkenly, corrected. She stood up, weaving somewhat.

"I'll see you around, Tom," she slurred. She had been pouring out her heart to the fellow drinker. He had listened and said things like, "Yeah, you're right" or "So sad" at the right times. Since the bar was only a few blocks from her house, she had elected to walk. She was so focused on getting home, she didn't notice the shadow trailing her.

She let herself into her house, but before she could close the door, the figure that had bee n trailing her pushed his way through the door. Her reactions were slowed down because of the alcohol in her system, and could not fight back.

The figure pressed her into the bedroom and locked the door. He walked toward her, but before he could put his hands on her, a wild spitting caught both of their attentions. Georgia had her fur raised and her little fangs bared. Before the man could do anything, Georgia pounced. Jessica turned her face away as she heard the man scream, and flesh being ripped away by the cat's claws. The only thing driving the cat was to keep her owner safe, to not let this man physically hurt her master.

When Jessica could finally look again, she almost threw up at what she saw. The black clothes of the assailant were now even darker because of the massive amount of blood. There were hundreds of small scratches and bites all over the man's body. The mask he was wearing was only holding on by a few strips, just enough to keep his face unknown. The cat was huddled in the corner, trying to clean her white-grey fur, now a light red from the blood.

Trembling, Jessica reached for her cell phone, and dialed 911. An ambulance and several police units were dispatched. When they arrived, the officer in charge yanked off the mostly shredded mask.

Jessica gasped. She knew this man. It was Tom!

"We've been looking all over Georgia for this killer, ma'am," said the head officer.

Jessica found her voice long enough to ask, "Killer?"

The officer looked at her. "Ma'am, have you been watching the news lately?"

Jessica shook her head. "No. I've…been busy with…other things." She would tell them about her boyfriend later.

"Recently, a young woman was found dead in her own home. She had been raped, and subsequently killed. This man's body fluids were found at the crime scene."

Jessica looked at her cat, grateful that Georgia had protected her.

Tom was taken out by the ambulance crew. Jessica only wished the cat could have done more damage.

"The girl he had killed had been drunk, so she didn't put up much of a fight," the officer continued. "We'll need you downtown, ma'am. Standard protocol."

Jessica nodded and followed the officer out, but first she took great care to make sure Georgia stayed in the house.

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She testified at his court date a month later. Tom Wilkins was sentenced to death row for one count of first-degree murder and one count of attempted murder.

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Well, this story's done. I hope y'all enjoyed it. R&R to let me know. Now I can set my sights on finishing _Prongs Rides Again_. Now that's gonna be fun. See y'all around.


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